


Show Me Your Colors

by lazarus



Category: DCU (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Blind Character, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-03
Updated: 2011-11-03
Packaged: 2017-10-25 16:16:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/272261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazarus/pseuds/lazarus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How do you describe the sky to someone who has never seen it before?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Show Me Your Colors

The day was about to end and Tim and Kon were up on the roof, unwinding and watching the sun go down. Well, Kon was watching the sun go down; Tim was more or less just staring blankly ahead, gazing but seeing nothing.

Kon often wondered what Tim saw behind those unseeing eyes—if he could see anything at all, and if he did… how was it any different than what Kon saw every day—and he had perfect vision.

“You’re staring at me again,” said Tim, who didn’t sound like he was asking a question, just simply stating a fact. He didn’t turn to look in Kon’s direction to confirm if this was true or not. Tim was always quite sure of himself, and it was both annoying and cool how often Tim turned out to be right.

Sometimes Kon wondered if the whole blind thing was just an act and if Tim was just pulling his leg—the guy was scarily accurate when he wanted to be. But still… Kon was always amazed, always in _awe_ … regardless of how long he’s had to get used to it. He _couldn’t_ get used to it.

Tim surprised him every day. He didn’t see his disability as a liability or a hindrance; it was just a part of who he was—just something he was born with. And he took that aspect of his life and turned it in a source of unyielding strength that not even Kon himself possessed.

He may not be able to _see_ with his eyes, but that didn’t mean Tim was _blind_ in the ways where it mattered most. It didn’t make Tim weak; it didn’t make him any less of a Titan than the rest of them. Tim was strong, he was smart—he was a fighter. And Kon had seen him take down more opponents than he could possibly count.

It was amazing. _Tim_ was amazing.

“What’s it like?” Kon blurted out.

Tim finally turned to him. “Being blind?” he asked.

Kon nodded, completely forgetting Tim couldn’t see that. “Yeah,” he said.

Tim paused as he considered his answer, and Kon watched, completely fascinated.

Tim may not realize it, but he was quite beautiful to look at. Soft, dark hair (which was growing quite long in Kon’s opinion) and deep blue eyes, which often reminded Kon of the calm right before the storm: it was so serene and still on the surface, so cool and precise, but underneath lay the monsoon, dangerous, deadly and ready to unleash havoc.

Tim had remarkably pale skin, marred, easily damaged and completely mortal, but his imperfections are what make him so engaging to look at. Kon’s vision could see every visible scar along his neck, his collarbone and down the path where his shirt hid the rest of it. They were battle marks, history, mistakes and victories. They were living proof of how strong Tim was and how much he had to endure to get to where he is.

Kon gazed over the bride of Tim’s nose, his cheekbones, even the part where his hair curled just below his ear, to his mouth. A pair of lips that have ordered and bossed Kon around, instructed him and gave him smiles that were so infrequent and rare that Kon always thought it was something like a achievement every time he managed to get Tim to make one.

“Well,” said Tim, finally speaking up. He folded his hands over his lap. “I suppose it’s sort of like staring into a really long, dark tunnel. There are no lights to help guide you. You only have the rest of your senses to rely on, so what you smell, what you hear and the things you come into contact with. For me, these are my eyes.”

“Really?” said Kon, frowning. “You don’t see any colors or shapes? Nothing at all?”

Tim shook his head. “Nothing,” he replied. He sounded factual, nonchalant… but Kon knew Tim long enough to know when something was _real_ and when something was just an act.

And Kon figured Tim had spent a long time convincing himself that he didn’t need to see an ocean or a sunset or even a smile, but that didn’t mean Tim still didn’t long for it. To see nothing but darkness your whole life? To be able to hear and feel all these people around you but not being able to see them? It felt… kind of lonely.

Kon wondered what Tim had been like before he became Robin, and whether or not he’d ever been lonely. The thought of Tim by himself, stumbling in the dark and pleading for somebody—anybody—to find him made Kon shift a little closer towards him.

“It’s not that bad,” said Tim quickly, as if to make sure Kon didn’t feel bad for asking. “I manage.”

If there was anything Tim hated more than having people treat him differently, it was being _pitied_. He didn’t want people to feel sorry for him just because he was blind and he certainly didn’t require their help or their charity. Their enemies had definitely made plenty of mistakes, thinking a blind opponent wasn’t a cause for concern.

But Kon wasn’t just anybody. Not to Tim.

He was someone whose opinions mattered to Tim; who Tim valued and cared for—not as a fellow Titan, but as a friend. His best friend, Kon corrected. And if Kon treated ever him differently… well, Kon could only imagine how devastated _he’d_ feel if Tim started treating him any differently for being half of Lex Luthor.

But he didn’t. He never did. Tim _looked_ at Kon and saw _Kon_. Not Superman, not Luthor. Not a clone. But a person. A friend. Just him. Kon.  
Kon nudged his shoulder. “I know you do. You’re a freak like that,” he teased and felt that familiar rush of giddiness, elation and affection he always got whenever Tim smiled. It was genuine and real, an actual smile that made his entire face light up, and only Kon was privy to see it.

Tim honestly had no idea the kind of affect he had on him. Kon was somewhat relieved that Tim couldn’t see _that_.

“What about you?” said Tim suddenly, breaking through Kon’s thoughts. “What’s seeing like?”

“Um,” said Kon, who’d never really thought about it before. He’d always been able to see. He’d never been questioned before on how it was like. “I guess it’s kind of like your tunnel… only it’s way too bright and way too dark at the same time. There are so many colors and shapes to take in that sometimes you can’t see them all. You either catch certain details or you miss them entirely. It’s like trying to squeeze the world into that one long scope.”

Tim hummed in understanding. “Okay, what’s seeing like for _you_ then?”

“I just—”

“I know,” said Tim, turning to him. He was looking serious. “But I’m asking what seeing is like for you. For Superboy. For Kon-El.” Despite himself, Kon shivered at the sound of his name falling off of Tim’s lips. “Tell me what you see, Kon—all the colors, all the shapes. I want to know what the world is like in your eyes.”

“I…” said Kon in a somewhat constricted voice. He swallowed. “I don’t know where to start.”

Tim shrugged. “I don’t know… tell me what the color red looks like? Green and Blue? What does the sun look like, the ocean, a rainbow? What does the _sky_ look like?”

“That’s a pretty big list, Tim,” Kon said wearily. “Are you sure you didn’t leave anything out?”

“Sorry,” said Tim, looking sheepish. “You don’t have to—I was just curious… that’s all.”

“I don’t mind,” Kon chuckled.

He tapped his chin, thinking for a moment. How was he going to show Tim any of those things if he couldn’t literally show it to him? He wracked his brain, trying to think of a solution.

“Ah hah!” Kon said as an idea finally came to him. “Stay right here,” he told Tim, who raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ll be back in a jiff.”  
He sped off the rooftop and was back not ten seconds later with everything he needed.

“What are you doing, Kon?” said Tim, sounding confused now.

“Showing you what the color red looks like,” Kon said, beaming.

After a very long period of silence, Tim finally spoke up. “Kon, I know this may come as a bit of a shock to you,” he said, “but I’m _blind_ in case you’d forgotten. How exactly can you show me what red looks like?”

Kon grinned. “Don’t be a smartass,” he said. “You asked me and I’m delivering.” He took Tim’s hand and placed the first item into his palm. “Here.”

He didn’t say anything as Tim turned the object around in his hands, his fingers tracing the shape and feeling the texture, his mind already aware of what it is.

“A lighter,” said Tim, realization dawning on his face. He stared at it in disbelief. “That’s… the color red.”

“Hey, hey, don’t sound so skeptic,” said Kon, taking the lighter from him and flickering it on. “Red is a _hot_ color. To me it’s like fire.” He took Tim’s hand and hovered it above the flame. Close, but not too close that it would burn Tim, but close enough for Tim to feel the heat and the intensity of it. “Red is more than just fire. It’s anger, passion, power, radiance… _love_.”

He looked at Tim as he said this.

“It sounds… beautiful,” Tim said finally.

“It is,” Kon agreed. “But wait—it gets better!” Tim looked simply amused as Kon instructed him to lean back against the wall and shut his eyes. “I promise I won’t do anything funny,” he said when Tim gave him a warning look. Instead he placed a blanket over Tim’s legs and his arms, making sure to tuck it all the way to his chin. “Comfy?”

“I feel like I’m about to go bed,” said Tim lightly, and for that sassy remark, Kon tweaked one of his ears. “Hey!”

“No smartass talk,” said Kon, poking him on the nose. Tim’s mouth twitched as if he wanted to smile. “Okay, now just close your eyes and relax. Do you feel the warmth? The heat ?”

Tim nodded. “I feel it,” he said, pulling the blanket closer around him. “It feels… nice.”

“That’s the sun,” said Kon, staring across the horizon, where there sun was slowly going down. “Like one big, comfy blanket making you feel warm and safe. Energizing you and giving you strength.”

Tim smiled. “Kind of like you,” he said, opening his eyes as he sat up. He placed one sturdy hand over Kon’s chest, just above the S symbol and smiled again, his expression soft. “Warm,” Tim murmured.

“Oh,” Kon said quietly. His heart started to speed up and there was a rush of heat on his face that had nothing to do with the sun or the lighter. And as if coming to his senses, Tim quickly snatched his hand back, looking like he didn’t quite know what had come over him.  
“H-Here,” Kon said, changing the subject. He placed the item into Tim’s outstretched hand.

Tim was even quicker at figuring out what this one was. “A four leaf clover? Really?” he said, touching the petals gently with the tip of his fingers.

“It’s harder to find than it looks,” said Kon smugly. “That’s the color green. Green is… life, it’s earth…it’s…” he tapped his chin, thinking of more ways to describe the color green, “the vegetables on your plate you don’t really want to eat but you probably should because they’re healthy for you.”

Tim laughed. “So green is my source of vitamins,” he said. “Gotcha.”

“It’s also a fashion statement for some of our fellow heroes,” Kon said cheerfully, making Tim laugh again. “Oh no, you keep it,” said Kon when Tim began handing him the clover back. “Besides, it’s supposed to be lucky.”

“Is that how green looks like too?” said Tim, smiling, but he placed the clover beside him.

“Here,” said Kon, taking Tim’s hand and dipping it in a glass of water. “This is the color blue. I guess you can say it’s the opposite of red,” he shrugged. “Blue is water. Cool. Wet. It’s focus. Serenity. Sadness.” He glanced at Tim’s face and took a deep breath. “The color of your eyes.”

“I know. I… I read it on my medical files,” Tim said, as if that was enough to cover what he lacked. “I know Bruce has blue eyes and so does Dick.”

“I have blue eyes,” Kon said like an afterthought.

Tim turned to him, his face suddenly an open book that Kon could read and decipher; there was a lot to take in and a lot that Kon had never noticed before.

Tim reached out and touched the side of Kon’s face, just below his left eye. “I wish I could _see_ ,” he said. He sounded sad, regretful.

Kon shook his head and placed a hand over Tim’s. “You see me just fine,” he said, giving him a comforting squeeze. “Here,” he said, placing a seashell against Tim’s ear. “That’s the ocean.”

And on and on it went. A lemon and a light bulb for yellow; a citrus and a small horn for orange. A crown for purple, metal for grey; chocolate for brown; he showed him the stars with the soft melodies of a piano and beads of stones; a piece of cheese for the moon and Skittles candies for a rainbow in his mouth. Tim was entertained and awed by Kon’s boundless creativity and reinvention.

“Alright then,” said Kon finally, standing up. “Let’s go.”

“Go?” said Tim, confused. “Go where?”

“I’m going to show you what the sky looks like,” said Kon.

“You’re not going to dump something all over me are you, Kon?” Tim asked as he got to his feet too.

Kon snorted. “No. Nothing like that. Just trust me. You do trust me right?” he added.

Tim’s eyes softened, but his answer was firm and instantaneous. “Of course I do,” he said, smiling again. Kon tried to ignore the way his heart stopped beating before resuming at an alarmingly quick pace.

“Alright then come with me—and you won’t need that for where we’re going,” said Kon when Tim picked up his walking stick. Tim gave Kon a funny look but then propped his cane back against the wall.

Kon swallowed nervously as he slipped his arms around Tim’s waist and pulled him close, their chests brushing together and their faces merely an inch apart. He could hear Tim’s breath stutter and immediately took it as a sign of surprise.

“Just trust me,” Kon murmured and Tim nodded, slipping his arms around Kon’s neck and shoulder. There was an unusual pink hue spread across his cheeks that hadn’t been there before. “Ready?” Kon asked, hoping his voice was even.

Tim nodded wordlessly just as Kon lifted them off the ground, into the air. Tim’s grip immediately tightened on him. It was clear from the slight dip between his brow that Tim was anxious; he wasn’t particularly fond of flying—he told Kon it was like really being blind. In the air, Tim had no footing, no solid ground, nothing to tell him where to go or where he was. He was lost.

“Don’t worry,” said Kon, squeezing him, “I’ve got you.”

And Tim relaxed slightly. When they were high among the clouds, Kon started to let go.

“Kon?” said Tim abruptly, automatically reaching for him. He sounded like he wanted to panic but was doing his best to hide it.

“Trust me, Tim,” Kon said against his ear. “I won’t let you fall. I promise.”

After a moment’s pause, Tim nodded again and reluctantly allowed Kon to slowly release him. His TTK encased Tim’s entire body, supporting him and holding him, until Tim was finally suspended in the air right next to him, looking quite like a fish out of water. His arms were at either side of him, as if trying to find something to hold on to. He looked nervous, maybe even scared, and it was only his complete faith in Kon and his promise that made him try to look like he wasn’t.

“You wanted to know what the sky looked like for me,” Kon said, flying next to him and taking Tim’s hand in his own. “This is it.”

He pulled Tim with him as they flew through the sky, twirling in circles and zigzags; he watched with a smile as Tim touched the clouds, his face full of wonder and delight as they passed through his fingers. He watched as Tim closed his eyes, feeling the wind against his face, through his hair and all around him.

And the best part of it was the sound of Tim’s laughter, echoing and filling up the skies. Even Kon finally released his hand, Tim didn’t look nearly so scared anymore. With his TTK, Kon let Tim amuse himself for a moment; he was spinning in a small circle, laughing at his own silliness and looking thrilled, his cheeks were flushed, his hair a mess—but Kon thought Tim was the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

He slipped his arms back around Tim, who automatically held Kon close, as they both made their slow descent to Earth again.

“That was… amazing, Kon,” Tim said softly. “The sky looks amazing. It’s so endless… and free. It felt wonderful.”

“I could take you up there again,” Kon suggested instantly.

“Really?” said Tim, looking eager. “You would?”

“Any time,” Kon promised with a small smile, feeling his heart expand as Tim squeezed him tighter.

They were getting closer to the ground when Tim finally asked, “What do _I_ look like, Kon?”

And Kon knew Tim wasn’t asking about his hair or his eyes or the shape of his face and nose, even though Kon could tell Tim all about those things with great embarrassing detail. But Tim was asking Kon what _he_ saw when he looked at Tim. What he saw that Tim or anybody else couldn’t see.

Kon smiled as their feet touched the roof of the tower.

“Here,” he murmured, cupping the side of Tim’s cheek, “let me show you.”

And he kissed him.


End file.
